


Detentions With The Professor

by NonsensicalMusings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Eventual Smut, F/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Smutty, Teacher-Student Relationship, Work In Progress, a bit OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:09:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NonsensicalMusings/pseuds/NonsensicalMusings
Summary: "Professor, I have come to serve my detention." Hermione's voice didn't betray her, this time.He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge her in any way as he continued to mark the essay in front of him. "You should know what to do by now, Miss Granger."Will update tags as required! Originally posted on FF.net.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 3
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is another repost from FF.net. I'm slowly updating my older works over after a damn good edit (though I will still get things wrong - I blame vision and laptop problems)! My stories have been neglected for quite some time, so if you start reading them then notice the odd change, that's why.
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The usual!

Hermione stared down at her potion; it was perfect. It was precisely the right shade, and she had followed the instructions to the letter, but she knew it meant nothing. The ever tyrannical Professor Snape would still find fault. 

From the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Professor Snape near her cauldron. She held her breath, waiting to see if she'd remain invisible. There were days he'd leave her alone, but it didn't feel like it was going to be one of those days.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he sneered as he walked to the front of her des. Professor Snape looked down his crooked nose at her potion, seemingly dissatisfied. "That will be 5 points from Gryffindor and detention, 8 o'clock tonight. Being the Head Girl does not exempt you from putting effort into your work." He pointed to the empty desk next to her, "and clean that mess up."

It had become almost a routine. Hermione would get detention for some perceived fault ranging from an imperfect potion to the wrong tone of voice. Then Professor Snape would sit as his desk watching her while she cleaned.

Even though it was all artifice, Hermione sighed and began to draw her wand when a raised eyebrow from Snape told her that magic was not to be used this time. She grimaced and walked down the back of the potions room to locate a rag and bucket. Why did Neville have to discover muggle bubblegum? 

**Dinner at the Great Hall**

As soon as Hermione spotted Harry waiting for her at the entrance to the Great Hall, she knew she was in for another one of _those_ conversations.

"What did you even do this time Hermione? You know that if there's a chance he can give you detention he will! And to top it off you just sat there pretending you're not being unfairly treated!" Harry yelled. 

Shushing her friend and dragging him to their usual seats, Hermione sighed. "I honestly don't know Harry, not this time at least. But he's a teacher, what am I supposed to do? Talk back? Yell? He has every right to give detention or dock points."

Hermione sat down on the bench and pulled out her potions textbook. She knew exactly why she had gotten the detention, but she wasn't going to share the reason with Harry. 

"I mean nearly every potions lesson you come back with another detention. You never used to get any, not one! I can't understand it, Snape seems to be giving you an even tougher time this year, and you would think with the bloody war over he would let up a bit, but NO. Full-on snarky Professor with greasy hair to boot." Harry had been focusing on his meal while he spoke, but then he looked up with a frown, "Hermione, are you even listening to me?"

She raised her head from her book and gave a curt nod, she wasn't actually listening as she'd heard his rant before, but it was always better to appear attentive. After the war, Harry had become rather protective of her, and it wasn't always helpful. In his mind, they were heroes, and carrying on with the mundane didn't help anyone. It wasn't productive, he'd argued, and they were better off fighting crime as a trio. Hermione understood but ultimately felt a little normalcy wouldn't hurt them assimilate back into life after being on the run. 

Both Harry and Ron had dropped potions when it came to their additional NEWT year choices. Hermione had argued that they would need it to become Aurors. Still, Harry had merely replied that killing Voldemort would get him any job he wished thank you very much. She knew he wasn't wong, but wished he'd take his final year education a little more seriously. 

"Yes, Harry. Professor Snape: snarky, greasy, tough," she mumbled while trying to keep her mind out of the gutter.

"You don't even seem fazed by the idea that in 5 minutes you are going down to that greasy git!" Harry continued, pushing his plate of food away.

Hermione looked up at that comment. Was it really five minutes to eight? Shit, if she didn't move now, she might be late, and he wouldn't like that regardless of the pretence. With a motherly kiss on his forehead and a mumbled 'see you later, don't wait up', she flew out of her chair and down the spiral staircase, ignoring Harry's grumbling about 'fairness and war heroes'.

Racing down the stairs, Hermione navigated the dark corridors of the dungeons with under a minute to spare. She took a deep breath, composed herself and raised a hand to knock on his door, but he was one step ahead of her, like always, and the door swung open at her touch.

"Enter." His imposing voice echoed down the corridor. It was just a simple command, but she could already feel the tingle from her head to her toes.

She pushed the door open the rest of the way to find Professor Snape sitting at his desk with essays to mark. Hermione heard his quill scratching scathing comments on the latest unfortunate student's essay.

"Professor, I have come to serve my detention." Hermione's voice didn't betray her, this time.

He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge her in any way as he continued to mark the essay in front of him. "You should know what to do by now, Miss Granger."

And she did.

Hermione crossed the space between them, bent down and placed her hands on his neck, she slowly traced her fingers all the way down his back and round to his chest, before resting them on his shoulders.

"Do get on with it, Miss Granger. I haven't got all night!"

Though her voice didn't betray her before, his did, and she knew that she had him right where she wanted him.

"But Professor," she asked innocently, "you haven't given me any instructions." Hermione found her favourite place and rested her head in the crook of his neck. Feeling mischievous, she licked a spot of his pale skin that peeked out from between his high collar robes and blew on it.

"My..." he paused to clear his throat while shifting in his chair slightly, "instructions, Miss Granger are for you to sit on my lap.

Hermione gasped in delight, "But, Sir, I'm just a student!"

"Do I have to repeat myself, Miss Granger?" He asked, knowing the answer already.

"No, Sir."

Hermione straightened up and straddled his lap. Smirking, she took her time getting comfortable, moving her hips up and down before his hands gripped her waist. 

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but in reality, it was only a few minutes.

"Hello, Hermione, my love," he said, breaking the silence. 


	2. The Problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2020 Rewrite time! If you've already read this story on FF.net the plot hasn't changed much, but the details are more fleshed out. I will be getting the rest of the chapters later this week and will be posting a NEW chapter when I'm done. 
> 
> Big thank you to everyone that has left kudos/commented/bookmarked this story, those emails really make me excited to write. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and various other publishers. No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

The next morning Hermione grumbled whilst getting out of her own bed. She much preferred Severus' bed as it was softer and had better sheets. Not to mention it was a double bed and not a single.

Though nothing scandalous had happened the previous night, Hermione smiled. She truly loved the simple things like sitting next to each other on her favourite couch and talking with Severus until she had to leave. Though curfew didn't exactly pertain to Hermione as she was Head Girl and allowed to be out of her dorms later than other students, Hermione preferred to get back in time. She knew that if anyone caught her, there would be questions, and with an already suspicious Harry on the lose the last thing they needed were questions.

Decided she'd spent enough time reminiscing, Hermione started getting ready. She knew it wouldn't be long before the telltale scuffling of feet outside her door announced Harry's arrival. Whilst Harry was in general more protective of her after the war, he had also taken to escorting her places. Which was fine because it _had_ to be fine. The few times she'd slipped under his radar and gone out for a morning walk he'd blown up at her and spent an hour crying that he thought she'd had died. Which was fine, because they were dealing with it one day at a time.

Hermione had even tried to talk to him about PTSD and trauma, but Harry had quite literally stuck his fingers in his ears and snubbed her. Her counsellor said that Harry wasn't quite ready to deal with whatever was going on in his brain, and whilst Hermione agreed, she found it challenging. The war had been over for a year, and Harry showed no signs of processing what he'd gone through.

Straightening her uniform shirt collar, Hermione took one last look in the mirror before deciding that was as good as it was going to get. As she picked up her brush, she could hear her time had run out, Harry never did well at waiting patiently for her.

"Hermione," Harry yelled whilst banging on her door.

"One minute Harry, I'm coming," she yelled back. 'Honestly, that boy has no patience' she thought as she desperately trying to pin her wild hair back.

"Hermione, if you're not out by the count of three-"

Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door was yanked open to reveal a rather stressed Hermione Granger. He had watched Hermione change over the past few months. She had gone from a shy girl with busy hair to a woman with curves, tamed hair and carried an air of confidence around her. Mulling over the changes, Harry realised her new look suited her. He wondered what had caused it.

"Harry James Potter, threaten me once more, and see if you live to tell the tale!" She brushed past him, knocking him off balance slightly as she made her way down the stairs. Honestly, men!

**Breakfast in the Great Hall**

As they took their seats, Hermione looked up to the teacher's table and blushed. Harry looked at her as if she had gone mad; why was she blushing? What was so fascinating?

"Hermione?"

"Um, yeah one minute Harry," Hermione replied muttering arithmetic equations under her breath to divert attention away from her blushing. Severus thought it was cute that she blushed, she did not. Taking a breath, she regained her composure and struck up the usual 'how did you sleep and what are your plans for today' conversation with Harry. Normalcy, routine, and knowledge were the best ways she'd found to help Harry.

Whilst chatting to Harry, she reached for her goblet of juice by the right side of her plate, only to find that it wasn't there. It was on the left. Strange, she thought. The house-elves always placed the goblets on the right side of the plate, why would they change it now? Without giving it too much thought, she located her goblet and took a sip of her drink. But her drink didn't taste right. It had a grainy texture and juice _never_ had a 'grainy' texture. Hermione spat the liquid out, startling a few of the members of her house, but she didn't care. All of a sudden, she did **not** feel well. Something was off. She could feel her skin become clammy, and as she made to move off the bench, her back came in contact with a hard body.

"Miss Granger." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she realised that it was Severus behind her."Come with me at once."

As they made their way out of the Great Hall, Severus's mind was racing. What the hell had just happened? He'd seen Hermione blush when they locked eyes, and then saw her talk with Potter. That was it. What had he missed?

"How do you feel?" he said when they were out of earshot of the masses in the Great Hall. But Hermione didn't answer, she couldn't. Severus turned to look at her, but she wasn't there. Looking back, he spotted her leaning against a statue at the end of the corridor, the same passage he had just run down in a panic.

"Hermione!" he bellowed, whilst racing towards her. When he reacher her, he took her face in his hands. Her lips were turning blue, and her face was ashen.

"Can't ... I can't ... breathe," she managed to wheeze out.

Severus looked at her worriedly. "Okay, okay. Can you lift your arms for me, sweetheart? I'm going to carry you."

"Someone ... sees?" she rasped.

Severus tenderly brushed a stray piece of hair from her face. "I don't care. You are more important to me than someone seeing at the moment. Ready?" he said, and she nodded. "One, two, three." He lifted her small frame into his arms and walked as quickly as he could to his chambers.

As they made their way further down, Hermione's breath became shallower. After a few more twists and turns, Severus could no longer feel her breath against his skin. He lost what little patience he possessed, and apparated them both to his living room. The only perk of his year-long appointment as Headmaster was that the castle still recognised him as the master, and he'd been to busy to question it.

Severus gently laid Hermione on the couch, the same piece of furniture they had spent many nights talking on. He ran towards his private laboratory to collect a muscle relaxant and a bezoar. By the time he had come back, her eyes were half-opened.

He was losing her.

Severus ripped the cork from the bottle with his teeth tried to open her mouth. There was no give, her muscles had started to seize. He knew he would have to manually massage her throat to get her to swallow as there was no way she would be able to swallow it in her current state.

"Hermione, I'm going to have to make you swallow this muscle relaxant by rubbing your throat. It's not going to feel nice, but it is necessary."

Severus knew she couldn't hear him, he knew she wouldn't be able to respond, but he kept up his narrative. Hoping that his voice would keep her grounded.

"I'm going to open your lips and pour the potion into your mouth now, I know it hurts, but be brave for me."

Tipping the potion into her mouth, he pinched her nose and massaged her throat with one hand, encouraging the muscles to swallow. It felt like hours before he could feel the muscles under his hands start to work, and as soon as she was swallowing regularly, he forced the bezoar down her throat, hoping it would work.

As he waited for the bezoar to take effect, his mind started to go into overdrive. If someone had poisoned Hermione's drink, then this was too easy if a bezoar and muscle relaxant combo could fix it. Why go through **so** much trouble to induce something akin to an anaphylactic shock? After an assassination attempt 20 years ago, and not forgetting the Weasley twins' scheming, the house-elves had become very strict about those they let into the kitchen around mealtime.

His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Hermione's eyes start to glaze over, and her head flop to the side of the couch. There **was** something else going on.

"Hermione!" he yelled, tapping her face. There was no response. Feeling the sweat gather on his brow, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom. After he placed her down gently on the sheets, he took out his wand.

A spell of his own creation told him all he needed to know.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my words, please let me know, and if there's anything you'd like me to write about feel free to drop me a message.


End file.
